Dauntless (Gentlemen of the Order 1)

Based on his last case, he believed the villain would rather work to disguise his penmanship than take a partner in crime. “Still, I would like to be sure before moving to other lines of enquiry.”

“Then I shall find anything pertinent to the case and have my footman deliver it to you in Hart Street.”

It occurred to him there was another suspect not yet named. “And who is the friend who knows you write under a pseudonym?”

A veil of sadness fell over her features, and he knew the person’s identity before she said, “Clara Swales.”

“Of course. Lord Benham’s sister.”

“Though Clara is not a suspect.”

“No.” Not unless she was looking for funds to escape her Northumberland prison. Not unless Howard Dunn had put her up to the task.

“Either way, we should add another name to the list—Lord Benham’s. He may have inadvertently stumbled upon your secret.” Perhaps the viscount sent the note to prevent Miss Dunn from visiting Northumberland. Perhaps he sent it to frighten her as a means of revenge.

A heavy silence descend

ed.

It was time to depart, though he found it impossible to leave.

He recalled the fantasy she had created to appease the publisher. An afternoon spent stretched on a blanket in the park while he read poems. An afternoon relaxing in the sunshine, picnicking, drinking wine, more passionate kissing.

The image spoke to him deeply.

So deeply, he feared he was losing his grasp on reality.

“Now you have dealt with the matter of my stolen undergarments and released me from Mr Hemming’s clutches,” Miss Dunn said, her sweet voice drawing him from his reverie, “what do you propose we do now?”

Oh, he had plenty of ideas as to how they might fill their time.

“I suggest you think carefully about the night of the attack. Did the thug say anything? Is there a reason your boots might hold some particular value to him?”

One reason sprang to mind, and he would give the matter his consideration upon his return to Hart Street.

Miss Dunn swallowed deeply. “So, you don’t need me to accompany you on another outing?”

“Not at present.” Though he wished he could invent another appointment, wished to banish the loneliness from her voice. “But while I wait for your publisher to pounce, I intend to question Lord Benham. After all, the man has a motive for murder.”

She clutched her throat as if she were Benham’s next target. “Howard deserves to pay for his crimes, but I pray Lord Benham has not gone too far. Vengeance will not heal the heartache. And how can a man reform if he’s dead?”

Reform?

“Men like your brother are beyond redemption,” he said, attempting to keep his contempt for Howard Dunn from his voice.

“Of course they are, but one must not give up hope.”

“No. Hope is all we have.”

After another brief silence, Miss Dunn straightened her bonnet. “Well, I am sure you will keep me informed of your progress, and I shall arrange to have the information you require sent to Hart Street.”

“Excellent.”

They sat there … waiting … stalling. Noah reached for the door handle a second after Miss Dunn leant forward and wrapped her fingers around the metal.

Damnation! It looked like he was trying to prevent her from leaving, as if he had something important to say.

The lady gave a light laugh. “Good day, Mr Ashwood. And thank you for your help. I’m rather ashamed I lacked the strength to deal with Mr Hemming.”